


Just Like Fire

by BarcelonaFanForever



Category: Football RPF
Genre: But seriously please forgive me, I've kind of been wanting to write this for a long time., Love/Hate, M/M, Please Forgive me, i don't even know what this is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:24:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6991099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarcelonaFanForever/pseuds/BarcelonaFanForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If you glare any harder I think you'll burn a hole through his skull." Leo's voice is soft as Marc snaps the band on his gloves even harder. </p><p>"I wasn't glaring... I was..... simply observing."<br/>"... sure. Let's call it that." </p><p>Or where our favorite German goalkeeper kind of has a love/hate relationship with his manager. But with a little help from Leo and Rafinha it may end up leaning more towards the love side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what I was thinking when I wrote this. I've read a lot of manager/player fics lately and that got me in the mood. Therefore I would like to apologize for this unlikely pair. Also I may change the title later. I literally labelled my word document for this story "Marc and Lucho".

Let's all take a minute to appreciate how cute Marc is. 

Marc Andre Ter Stegen arrives on a day where Barcelona is slightly cloudy but the sun is still poking out of the clouds as if to say “I got you. Thought you’d seen the last of me didn’t you fuckers?” Luis is busy standing on the Barcelona grounds with his back analyzing the situation with a frown on his face. Next to him stands Neymar who is constantly whining and panicking about the lack of Leo at the training. In fact, Neymar is on his fifty-fifth reason on why he should be allowed to head inside and comfort Leo. Luis is about to correct Neymar on multiple things including the fact that he thinks that Leo doesn’t need anyone’s help especially Neymar’s. Or, he’s about to tape Neymar’s lips shut. Whatever is more professional and less controversial with the media.

When Neymar finally does shut up after being dragged away by an apologetic looking Rafinha Luis finally allows himself to massage his temples. He loves this team. He does. But it’s like without Leo they’re all lost bumbling idiots. Out of the corner he can see Pique give Claudio Bravo a friendly shove. The goalkeeper isn’t having any of that because he turns to look at Pique menacingly before chasing the tall Spaniard around the field shouting obscenities after him that Luis is glad he can’t hear. He’s fixed his shades for about the fifth time when he feels a tap on his shoulder. At first he brushes it off with the idea that it’s Neymar who not surprisingly is absent from the grounds. The tap comes back after a few seconds the fingers sort of bruising to Luis’ poor shoulder blades who are already sort of aching after a quick stint in the gym last night.

He turns around ready to give the offender (most likely Neymar) a piece of his mind but finds himself face to face, correction. Face to chest. He cranes his head back a little ready to ask who this infuriating interrupter is. It’s clearly not Neymar he realizes with chagrin and slight disappointment when he’s met with crystal clear blue eyes. He’s too busy staring into those crystal clear blue eyes (NOT because he finds them pretty, but because he thinks he kind of locked his neck into that position) when he hears a slight cough.

He instantly realizes that there are two people present. One is a young boy with blonde hair and pale skin. He’s the owner of the pretty blue eyes. And next to him is a woman whose name Lucho cannot remember. She’s wearing a black pantsuit with the Barca crest that is embroidered on it and Lucho realizes that she’s one of the translators for the club. Which can only mean, that the boy standing in front of him is…. a transfer.

His suspicions and slight fears are confirmed when the woman introduces the boy as Marc-Andre ter Stegen. All the way straight from Germany packaged and processed and filling in for the position for goal keeper. The woman speaks in a sharp serious tone as she reminds Luis that all of the important paperwork came in a few days ago and he should have reviewed it. He’s too busy staring at this new player to remind her that he doesn’t look at all of the papers that are sent to him.

Marc-Andre seems a little nervous and Luis realizes that the German is handicapped in two things. His knowledge of the language and his ability to speak the language. When the translator is finally done talking in her rapid pace tone Lucho feels that headache coming back around and causing his temples to throb. He shouldn’t be angry at this new transfer, but he wishes that the club had once taken into consideration the element of team bonding. He runs a team and not a babysitting service. He reminds this to the translator glad for once that Marc can’t understand anything. The translator stares at him coolly and says in an equally affronted tone (most likely kept for Marc) that Luis doesn’t need to worry about Marc’s comprehension and speaking ability. He’s already been given a Spanish tutor and that there are plenty of players that don’t speak Spanish and Marc can fit in with them.

Luis is about to correct her and say that it’s a football club is based off bonding. And with a language barrier the bonding seems almost minimal. But her little nose is almost quivering with anger (although Luis doesn’t understand why, he’s talking about Marc not her) and she storms away. And Luis is left standing with Marc who now has his head tilted and looks at Luis questioningly. He’s dressed in pair of athletic shorts and a loose t-shirt which gives Luis an idea that Marc is ready to train. He pinches the bridge of his nose once more praying to anyone out there who can hear him to give him strength.

“English...... You speak English?” he tries tentatively (because he’s the manager of this club damnit and regardless of whether or not he wants Marc, he’s here now). He also curses himself for how broken his English sounds and notes that it would be a miracle if Marc would be able to understand him at all.

Something changes in Marc’s face and he suddenly beams a megawatt smile revealing white teeth with little fangs poking out. His smile gives his face a much more boyish look and Luis estimates that Marc probably falls into the group of younger players (a fact that he decides to store in the back of his brain when it comes to practice the next day).  
“Yes. Yes.” Marc nods his head fervently. “I speak English.”

What a relief. What a fucking relief.

Luis clears his throat. “Well. Practice is almost over. But you can join in for the last few hours.” Marc’s smile becomes even brighter and he turns around to jog towards the field. But at the last minute he spins back around on his heel reaching out to squeeze Luis’ hand earnestly his eyes and face both showing his appreciation.

“Thank you. Thank you for letting me join.” His English is even better then Luis’ and holds a faint undertone of confidence just like his grip on Luis’ hand shows.

“Yea. Yea. No problem. Welcome to Barcelona.” Luis mutters slipping on his shades and turning around to focus back on the players. He definitely doesn’t turn around to avoid Marc from seeing how his cheeks have heated up and how his hand still feels the warmth from the handshake.


	2. Chapter 2

 

One of my favorite "Terfinha" pictures. 

 And then of course Leo and Marc. 

“MARC! MARRRRCCCCCCCCCC” Marc has almost made his way off the field without being detected until he hears the hollering. He turns around grinning as he sees Rafinha practically towing Leo along with him as the Brazilian makes his way towards the German. Months ago if someone had told Marc that he would be good friends with Leo Messi or Rafinha Alacantra he would’ve looked at them as if they were nuts. And then proceed to buy them copious amounts of liquor.

But now after almost six months of being with the team Marc has formed a pretty steady bond with most of them. He visits Ivan and his family, goes with Geri to pick up Milan and Sasha sometimes. Attends almost all of Neymar’s parties (and Neymar has quite a few parties). But his closest bond has to be with Leo and Rafinha. Rafinha because he’s Marc’s roommate. Something that was supposed to be temporary but turned into something much more permanent. Now him and Rafinha do everything together. Rafinha is also the first person on the team that Marc openly tells of his sexuality. And of course there’s that one moment that him and Rafinha try to test their compatibility but all that ends up happening is an awkward kiss which leaves the two slightly uncomfortable until one day Rafinha pulls Marc into a hug murmuring into his neck that Marc is his best friend and no amount of awkward kisses will change it.

Leo and Marc also click almost immediately. Leo is quiet and pensive but him and Marc sharing rooms end up creating a bond between the two of them. It’s gotten to the point where Thiago has almost associated Marc as his “vampire uncle” a fact that is put into the little boy’s head by Rafinha. And no matter how much Leo or Marc try to drain it out Thiago is fixed firm on the fact that Marc one day is going to sprout fangs, a black cape, and a thicker accent.

Marc doesn’t mind though. He loves Thiago and sometimes when Leo wants a quiet night in he often volunteers to take Thiago in. Which results in huge amounts of Disney movies and ice cream, and candy, and an aching jaw the next day. It’s safe to say the little boy has created a place in Marc’s heart.

He’s pulled out of his musing when Rafinha finally reaches him panting and untangling his hand from Leo’s shoulder.

“You’re getting fat Rafa.” Marc says jokingly as he reaches over to try and collect enough skin off of Rafinha’s stomach to pinch. He fails miserably and ends up just leaving little indentations from his pinching attempts.

“Very funny Marc. And you’re getting deaf. It’s either from Thiago or Lucho.” Rafinha says a glint appearing in his eyes as he brings up the name of their beloved manager who makes Marc go through a range of emotions starting from anger to homicidal thoughts to a last emotion that Marc is unable to label. He can’t deny he’s disappointed with Luis’ treatment of him. When Marc first arrives in Barcelona he expects to be always playing.

But that’s not the case. Rather, Lucho takes almost every opportunity to sub him. And it hurts. Marc often calls home venting to his mother who patiently reminds him that he’s at the bottom of the pecking order.

“These things take time Marc.” She says with a fondness that he can feel even being so far from her. “Doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like you. He’d be blind not to.” And then Marc promises to never think such thoughts again, but those promises fail especially when in practice it seems like Lucho avoids him at every cost. He’s either working with Claudio or Jordi or the rest of the team. Sometimes other members of the trainings staff will even pair up with Marc. They don’t say anything and they often try to spend extra time with him as if to make up for the fact that the main man barely looks at Marc.

When Marc brings up his suspicions to Rafinha the Brazilian bursts out laughing.

“Maybe it’s because he fancies you Marquinho. You ARE very pretty to look at. And I think you’re tanning too! It makes your eyes pop.”

This statement ends up with Rafinha getting a pillow thrown at his face. Marc has never really questioned Luis’ sexuality. It’s not something that’s important, although Marc knows Luis has three children of his own. He’s seen them at celebrations and banquets although he’s never seen a woman with Luis.

“Don’t be ridiculous Rafa.” He says trying to downplay the ridiculous red stain that has started to graze his cheeks. Rafinha stops laughing and stares at Marc intently. “I’m not being ridiculous Marc. Sometimes, I think you don’t know how pretty you are.” The conversation stops there mainly because Marc has tackled Rafinha on the couch causing both of them to fall to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Nonetheless, Marc still remembers the conversation almost every day towards the back of his mind like a plaguing thought that isn’t quite pleasant but not unpleasant either.

*****

“Marquinho? EARTHHH TO MARQUINHOOOOOO” Marc is pulled out of his thoughts by a very high pitched Rafa who is waving his hand back and forth in front of Marc’s face.

“What’s wrong with you Rafa?” he frowns adjusting his gloves for what seems to be the fifth time that day.

“Me?” Rafinha sounds so offended for a second Marc considers apologizing until the Brazilian idiot he sometimes severely regrets calling his friend starts talking again. “Don’t look too hard Marc. Because that sexual frustration you’re projecting towards Lucho is going to start making everyone start dry humping everyone within two feet of them. Leo since you fulfill the distance requirement I hope you don’t mind me humping you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Rafa” Leo says his eyes glittering with amusement.

“Right. I forgot only Cris has the right to touch you in any sexual way.” Rafinha laughs flashing his white teeth.

“Shut up Rafa.” Leo says as a light blush covers his cheeks shoving Rafinha who shoves Marc who shoves Leo until the three are shoving each other around laughing without a care in the world. Marc’s heart feels light and he’s almost oblivious to a pair of dark eyes that are watching the scene from a distance. Key word being almost.

******

“You know. When you said you had new transfers I didn’t think they would be so nice on the eyes.” Pep’s voice pulls Luis out of his coach mindset

“Seriously Pep. You know how much that makes you sound like a pedophile?”

“I’m not the one whose staring at their goal keeper like he’s a piece of meat.”

Luis turns to stare incredulously at Pep, but the Bayern Munich manager has a grin on his face as he stares back knowingly.

“That’s ridiculous Pep. I don’t know if you got Bojan into your bed using those words but I can assure that’s not the mentality I keep here.”

“I didn’t need to say anything to get Bojan into my bed. He came on his own terms.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“You know the more you deny the more I’ll be suspicious.”

“I’m not denying anything. Plus, he’s not even gay.”

“Have you asked? Right-you haven’t. Well I guess you won’t have to wait for long. I’m inviting him to the Christmas party.”

“You what?! Pep! PEP!”

 

 

 

This Bojan Krkic. He played for Barcelona from 2007-2011. And I believe he played again from 2013-2014, BUT I could be wrong. At one point while at Barcelona a lot of people predicted he would be the next Leo Messi. Personally I think he's a cutie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be the Christmas party and some action. Once again, comments are appreciated! I LOVE YOU ALL FOR READING THIS (and hopefully enjoying) it too. Also it's the Champions League Final today. And everything is shaking. My hands, my feet, my legs. Literally I am one huge mess of anxiety.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! After having some serious writer's block.

 

 

For the sake of things that happen in the chapter later he's a picture of Marc and Marco. 

 

Marc frowns as he stares at his shirt. It’s the fifth one he’s tried on in the past hour. None of them look good. But Marc needs to look good. It’s his first Christmas party with the team and for some reason he gets the feeling that his presence is extra important.

Flashback

_“And make sure you all come to the party!” Pep’s voice is smooth and Marc can only gape dumbly at the sight of his childhood idol standing so close to him. “Especially you Marc.” Pep presses the invitation a little harder into Marc’s hand his eyes dark and pensive as they stare at Marc. A little smile plays on his face but before Marc can ask him the underlying meaning of his words Pep switches his face back to that of a manager flashing them all a quick grin. “Awesome then. Make sure you’re early AND I expect to see gifts. No excuses at all.”_

“Marc! I know you like to look in the mirror for long periods of time but if you don’t hurry up Pep is going to make us buy another gift just for being late.” Rafinha’s voice floats through the door and Marc sighs settling on his first choice a plain black dress shirt that is just a little tight. Yet his skin which as Rafinha stated has been tanning and it makes his eyes pop. He scrutinizes himself in the glass before grabbing his phone and heading out the door.

****

Pep’s house is modest in size and not as big as Marc expected. There are a few cars scattered around the driveway haphazardly. Marc identifies Xavi’s, Andres’, Claudio’s and a few other cars with nameless owners. They’ve made their way up the stairs and Marc reaches out to tentatively knock on the door. It swings open before his fist can connect for the second time and a young man stands in front of it. His hair is spiked up but it’s his eyes which draw Marc in the most. They’re wide and a dark green color framed with thick black lashes giving his face an innocent angel appearance. “Boji!” Rafinha shoves past Marc to grab said man in an embrace. The latter embraces him in a giant hug revealing white teeth against tanned skin murmuring things in Rafinha’s ear that causes the other to throw back his head and laugh. When the two have finally broken apart the man who Marc identifies as “Boji” smiles at Marc. “Bojan Krkic.” He says extending his hand forward to envelope Marc’s hand in a firm handshake. “I’m Pep’s boyfriend.” Boyfriend? Oh wow. Boyfriend. Marc can only stare dumbly at Bojan’s openness. He seems much younger than Pep, his face wrinkle free. Nonetheless there’s something about him a type of beauty that makes Marc want to keep staring as if just once isn’t enough.

“Boji this is Marc. He’s our newest goal keeper.” Rafinha finds it upon himself to make the introductions as he swivels his hand between the two. Something akin to recognition covers Bojan’s face and he grins at Marc “The German huh? The newest thorn in Lucho’s side? The one he talks about all the time.” Once again Bojan’s openness causes Marc to become a little befuddled. He can only stammer out “He talks about me?” Bojan and Rafinha share an amused look between the two and Bojan speaks up again “Oh sure he talks Pep’s ear off all the time about you. Good things of course!” Marc wants to correct Bojan because the Lucho he knows would never talk about him. Especially good things. But before he can say anything Bojan grabs his arm pulling him into the house “Matter of fact he’s here! Why don’t we go and talk to him!” It’s a bad idea, Marc thinks as Bojan drags him through the house. But nonetheless he can’t find himself have the energy to pull his arm out of the other’s grasp.

****

“This is stupid. Why’d you make me wear this.” Luis mutters out of the corner of his mouth as he flashes a fake smile at the next guest a rather portly woman who appears to have put on ten pounds of makeup on her face. She primps herself for a little bit, batting her lashes at him and Luis realizes with a sense of amusement that she’s trying to flirt with him. He doesn’t know how to tell her he’s gay and ends up politely smiling at her, baring all of his teeth until she realizes he’s not interested. It takes her all of five minutes and she lets out a little huff before storming off straight towards a waiter with a tray of appetizers. Pep waits until she’s well out of earshot before turning to Luis with an amused look on his face.

“Because black has always looked good on you. And with your recent fitness regime dare I say you are looking… rather nice?”

“….. Josep. Are you flirting with me?”

“Luis. I’m not flirting with you. I’m simply stating that you should get used to a lot more single women coming up to you and trying to get into your pants.”

“Shut up Pep. That’s so disgusting.” “But it’s not the women you’re interested in right? It’s someone around the height of 6’2’’, blue eyes, blond hair, and dare I continue?” “……” “It’s going to be SO much fun when he arrives.”

“Pep. I swear if you don’t shut up I’m going to shove this pastry right into your mouth.”

“You can’t shut out true love. Or in this case, some serious sexual frustration.”

“…. Fuck you Pep. Fuck you.”

“Oh Luis. You’re so cute when you blush.”

*****

Marc half hopes that sooner or later Bojan will loosen his grip on his hand but it’s not the case. Rather, the grip tightens even more with Bojan practically barreling everyone out of his way. At one-point Marc is steamrolled right by Leo and Cris. “Sorry Leo! Catch up with you later!” He yells looking over his shoulder and seeing an amused looking Leo and a confused looking Cris both staring at him. Leo leans over to whisper something in Cris’ ear which causes the confusion to slip off the other man’s face and understanding to set in. Marc in the meantime curses both the day that Leo and Rafinha were born. “Just a little bit more Marc!” Bojan yells over his shoulder and Marc can swear he hears the bastard smirking. He suddenly realizes why Pep finds Bojan so attractive. They’re practically the same person just in different bodies. His arm starts to feel numb until Bojan skids to a stop so fast Marc collides nose first into the other man’s back. The iron grip from his hand is dropped and Marc massages his hand thanking God for the circulation that is flowing back. Until, he looks up. And suddenly he goes from thanking God to cursing God. Because right in front of is Pep and Lucho. The first though that hits Marc is that Lucho must have a lot of black in his closet. The manager is yet again wearing a black ensemble but unfortunately Marc can’t come up with a single complaint.

“Marc.” Pep’s voice sounds delighted as he hovers right behind Lucho. “So glad you could make it.” Marc doesn’t have to turn around to know that Pep and Bojan are sharing a look that is similar to one resembling a general who has conquered a war.

Lucho looks just as uncomfortable as Marc feels as he fiddles with his hands unsure where to put them. Finally, he sticks them out in the form of a handshake smiling a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Merry Christmas Marc.”

Disappointment coats Marc’s tongue until it’s weighed down so heavily in his mouth he can only swallow softly before reaching out and shaking the hand offered to him. “Merry Christmas Coach.” In the background he can hear Pep muttering

“Such an idiot.”

**** Luis surrounded by idiots. Or maybe he’s the idiot. As Pep has so kindly reminded him multiple times as they walk through the party. Finally, Luis breaks away from Pep and creates his own path. He flashes a grin at Neymar who is looking equally angry and heartbroken at Leo and Cris who are both standing just a few feet away from him. Next to him is a drunk Dani who is wailing horribly out of tune to some song that Pep has playing on in the background. As he continues to make his rounds around Pep’s house he passes Xavi and Andres who are both huddled together so closely it’s hard to tell whose body parts are whose.

Andres murmurs something in Xavi’s ear that causes the older man to turn a rather deep scarlet and his eyes to flash dangerously. Luis is about to approach them but takes a detour immediately when Andres’ hands slip a little lower then Luis needs to see. By the third time he’s made it through the house Luis runs into much of the Bayern Munich crowd. He barely knows any of them but somehow they all know him.

Manuel Neuer enthusiastically shakes Luis’ hand yelling loudly about something that Luis can barely understand and he’s rather grateful when Pep comes to greet his team taking their attention away from Luis. There are a few German stragglers along with the group including Marco Reus who Luis always thought resembled a fox with his pointed features. Much to Luis’ chagrin Marco doesn’t head off with the rest of his group.

Rather he approaches Luis looking both nervous and confident. “Have you seen Marc?” Marco’s English is heavily accented and Luis frowns. He wants Marco to be specific. There are two Marcs on his team. Although, Luis has a sinking feeling that Marco isn’t talking about Marc Bartra. “No.” He answers shortly and truthfully. Marco’s face becomes crestfallen. “Pity, I was going to thank him for his Christmas gift. It was very generous.”

“He got you a gift?” Luis says mentally feeling something that is not quite disappointment but bordering on the edge of anger and jealousy. Marc has never gotten him a gift but to be fair Luis has never asked for one. Marco shoots him a confused look that changes to one of slow realization when he realizes the reason for Luis’ pointed question

“He’s never gotten you anything?” a slow gleeful look covers his face to the point he’s smirking and Luis really wants to punch him in his face. But before Luis can fully answer the man in question arrives his look questioning as he eyes the scene in front of him. The next actions that are viewed by all three parties are completely unnecessary according to Luis. Marco throws himself unnecessarily at Marc with much exaggeration almost causing the other German to be knocked off his feet. Luis watches with narrowed eyes as Marc wraps his arms around the other’s waist in order to keep both of them from falling on the ground. The embrace is too casual for the two of them to be just teammates and too meaningful for both of them to be just friends. “Has he been bothering you Coach?” Marc says a light grin on his face as he wraps an arm around Marco’s waist.

 _“Yea but if I told you the truth then God knows all the things that could go wrong.”_ He shakes his head no squeezing his lips so tightly he’s sure the pressure makes them go white. “No. He’s not bothering me at all.”

*****

“If you squeeze that glass any harder there’ll be two things happening tonight. Red wine will be all over my freshly steamed carpet. And- you’ll have glass shards in your hand.”

Pep’s voice is calm as he pries the glass out of Luis’ hand. It’s not fair he thinks. Not far that Marco Reus with his perfectly gelled hair, intense eyes and love of all things German had to swoop into the party. Luis doesn’t blame Marc though. Why would Marc possibly be interested in him when he can have someone like Marco Reus? It’s like going from Chanel to something at Walmart. He’s pulled out of his degrading thoughts when Pep pulls his hand “I’ve had enough of mopey Luis. There’s drinks in the kitchen. You look like you need something stronger.”

He wants to protest but somehow he doesn’t find the strength in him to. Instead he chooses to head straight to the kitchen reading to drink his body weight in alcohol. Unfortunately, he’s not alone in the kitchen. Much to his chagrin Marc sits on one of the bar stools juggling what suspiciously looks like water in a glass.

He looks up when Luis comes into the kitchen. To Luis’ pleasure he doesn’t look like he had one of the most intense make-out sessions of his life. Rather he looks the same that he did an hour before. Luis is so caught up in noticing how perfect Marc’s cheekbones look in the dim lighting that he doesn’t even notice the bar stool in his way until his foot catches on it and he’s sent sprawling forward. Thankfully, Marc’s goalkeeper reflexes still work on reflex because he’s out of his stool in a flash grabbing Luis right before he hits the floor. “Coach!” Luis looks up right to see a pair of dark blue eyes who are staring at him wide with worry. He can still feel the heat of Marc’s hands on his waist (hands that really haven’t moved) from their original position. And Luis, doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or just the frustration because he reaches one hand and links it behind the German’s neck and there’s a split second when a rational part of Luis’ brain appears to reprimand him for potential consequences.

But then that rationality disappears and Luis drags his goalkeeper’s face closer (HIS GOALKEEPER, mind you) until their faces are almost an inch away. Marc’s eyes are even wider although there’s something else flickering in those eyes. Luis in his wine induced haze doesn’t even know who initiated it first but the first thing he realizes is that Marc’s lips are on his.

The goalkeeper hasn’t consumed any alcohol but still there’s something sweet and citrusy about the way he tastes. It makes Luis want more and he links his arms tighter around the other’s neck pressing them even closer to the point where one couldn’t even fit the thinnest sheet of material between the two. Marc’s hands haven’t even left Luis’ waist and in fact Luis can feel them getting tighter and tighter squeezing until Luis is sure that there’ll be bruises the next day. In the heat of moment Luis can feel Marc’ s tongue slipping out and gently prodding his mouth searching for an entrance. Luis opens his mouth and Marc’s tongue slips and for second Luis feels a sense of embarrassment at the fact that Marc will probably be able to taste all the wine he’s consumed tonight.

That doesn’t seem to deter Marc though and he lets out a soft moan/ whimper. Things go downhill from there. The sudden noise from Marc causes Luis’s eyes to fly open and suddenly he’s aware of the fact what’s going on. He flies back tripping over his own feet and almost dislocating both of Marc’s arms in the process. He’s aware of his own beating heart and his swollen lips. Marc is no better than him, the goalkeeper’s eyes are almost glazed over and his lips look like they’ve had better days.

Confusion overcomes his face and his hands reach a little but Luis is quick to step back even more. “I- I have to go. I- “Luis stammers as he grabs his jacket that has been carelessly thrown on a chair. Something flickers across Marc’s face and it’s like a wall has broken. There’s vulnerability written all over and part of Luis’ brain (and all of his heart) urge him to stay.

But he’s a coward. And like any coward he turns around and flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.... I don't even know what happened with this chapter. While writing the kiss scene I literally was trying to imagine how Lucho would kiss. Eventually at one point I got up while writing this in the library and tried to visualize the scene where Marc grabs Lucho before he falls. Let's just say I got very strange looks. 
> 
> Much love to all those who are reading this and enjoy. THANK YOU SO MUCH. Comments from all you BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE are extremely appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are highly appreciated. Ratings may go up with this story depending on where my mind takes me.


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